


Big Emotion, Same Ambition

by pickleplum



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hackers, Alternate Universe - No Kaiju, M/M, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 08:11:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pickleplum/pseuds/pickleplum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Fine. Who do I need to find?” Newt knows it’s pointless to argue with Hannibal.</p><p>“Calls himself Otachi. The little shit keeps messing up our deals. We need to put an end to him.”</p><p>“No way, dude! That guy is super scary. If he even smells you, you’re toast. And by “toast” I mean “in prison”. I’m not going anywhere near that one. Uh uh. No way. Call one of your other pet hackers.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Response to this [prompt](http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/2747.html?thread=3155387#t3155387):  
> “Hermann and Newt are both computer hackers, but while Hermann works for the government protecting the country and even the world from cyber attacks, Newt works for the shady Kaiju organisation which has legally questionable business strategies.
> 
> “One day Hermann is assigned to find out the name and whereabouts of the Kaiju hacker. Meanwhile, Newt's boss (Hannibal) tells him to find out who the hacker who foils their operations so that they can take xare [ _sic_ ] of him.
> 
> “When they find out the name of the other hacker, they're both shocked to find out that their husband isn't in fact an IT guy in some office bilding [ _sic_ ], but the computer genius that they're supposed to have exterminated.”

“Agent Gottlieb, we’re going to second you to Langley for a special project,” the Boston FBI Special Agent in Charge tells Hermann after he takes his seat in front of the big maple desk. “We’ll be putting you on a flight out of Logan first thing tomorrow so they can brief you ASAP.”

“Yes, sir. Do you know what sort of project they have in mind?”

“That’s apparently above my pay grade.” He smiles ruefully. “But the grapevine has it the Director himself will be briefing you.”

“The CIA director will be briefing me.” Hermann is stunned, to say the least. He hasn’t talked to his father since before he was nominated to that post.

“Yeah. Which means they want you to catch one hell of a big fish.” The Agent in Charge shakes his head. “So, I need a quick rundown of where you are on your current projects, then you can get out of here. You’ll need your beauty sleep before this one. A car will pick you up at home at oh-seven-hundred.”

“If you don’t mind, sir, I’d rather take MBTA to the airport. That will make it easier to explain my sudden trip to Newton.”

“Of course. Do what you think best. And remind that husband of yours he still owes my wife and I a dozen of those delicious homemade cupcakes of his.”

“Yes, sir.” Hermann smiles and eases himself out of his chair. His leg has been playing up again lately and he takes his time to ensure it doesn’t traitorously drop him onto the rug. He wraps up his work and leaves the office. By the end of the three block walk to the train station, Hermann’s leg is aching. He spends the trip to Revere willing the pain to subside.

Newton Geiszler (they had agreed to keep their own names) greets him at the station like he does every day: with an enthusiastic hug and a quick kiss. Hermann squirms at the public display of affection, as usual. “Hurry up! I left dinner baking in the oven.” Newt grabs Hermann’s hand and pulls him along the sidewalk at a rapid clip.

“ _Newton_. We’ve discussed this. You are not to leave any cooking unattended.”

Newt throws a glance over his shoulder but doesn’t lessen his pace. “You’re never going to forget the falafel incident, are you?”

“No, I’m not. You almost burned down the kitchen.”

“It only happened _once_!” He sounds petulant and not a bit sorry.

“Once is too….” Hermann bites off his sentence as the muscles of his right leg lock and he struggles to avoid falling. Newt is there instantly, catching Hermann under the arm and gently steadying him.

“Easy, big fella,” he says, his eyes and voice soft with concern. “It’s getting worse, isn’t it? Maybe you should use the cane like the doctor suggested.”

“ _No_.” Hermann shakes his head emphatically and straightens up. “It’s nothing but a twinge. It will pass in a moment.” He looks defiantly at Newt who chews his lower lip but doesn’t say anything. “Let’s get back to the flat before we need the fire department.”

“Okay. C’mon, the car is over this way.” Newt links arms with his husband and they move off at a much more sedate pace. Hermann doesn’t speak for the short drive home, instead resting his head against the seat back and working his cramped muscles with his long, strong fingers.

By the time they reach their third-floor flat, Hermann is gritting his teeth and limping painfully. Even so, he spares a moment to thank the gods the kitchen is uncharred. He glares at the blackthorn cane resting in the umbrella stand just inside the door before seizing it roughly. He leans heavily on it as he propels himself deeper into the small apartment. Newt watches him and sighs.

Newt busies himself in the kitchen while Hermann takes his usual shower. Things have been rough for the last year, since Hermann’s diagnosis. What makes it worse is the man absolutely refuses to take proper care of himself. He’s worse than Newt. At least Newt takes the medications the doctor prescribes. Newt sighs again. He should have expected this. Stubbornness was one of Hermann’s more endearing qualities.

When Hermann reappears in a baggy t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms (It must be really bad tonight for Herm to dress down this much, Newt thinks), dinner is laid out on the coffee table--the dining room table having been taken over long ago by Newt’s reference books and coding notes--and NPR streaming through the stereo.

“How was work today?” Newt asks, passing Hermann a plate containing a generous portion of lasagna, a slice of homemade garlic bread, and a small salad. “You wrestle that dataset into submission?”

Hermann swallows a bite of lasagna. Delicious. Whatever his (many) flaws, Newt is an exceptional cook. “I made good progress. I’ve almost got the pattern isolated and described. Even our densest field agent should be able to understand it soon.” 

Newt picks at his salad for a moment. “You’re too smart for this sort of analyst job, Herm. You should test for a special agent position.”

“I told you. I’ve already taken the exam and failed. I have no desire to repeat that humiliation.”

“You could go freelance like me, then. You’d get to work on projects that really interest you.”

“And where would we be without my insurance, hmm? Or has it escaped your notice that we need steady coverage more than ever now?” Hermann picks up the cane and waggles it in Newt’s line of sight.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Herm. I just hate to see you wasting your time in a dead-end job.”

“Some sacrifices are necessary to maintain our lavish lifestyle, I suppose.” Hermann’s mouth twists into a crooked smile. “To add insult to injury, I have to fly to Virginia tomorrow for training on the new data management software.”

“Tomorrow! What the hell, Hermann? Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

Hermann holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “I was just informed today. I am as surprised and annoyed as you are about it.”

“I doubt that. But orders is orders, right?” Newt grumbles.

After dinner and stowing the dishes in the dishwasher, they curl up on the couch to watch four episodes of _Blue Gender_ (“It’s giant mechas and monsters from space, dude! Totally awesome!”) before trundling off to bed. There’s the usually tussle over blankets (Newt is always warm, Hermann’s always cold), before they settle into each other for the night. Hermann curls against Newt’s side, using Newt’s belly as a pillow and throwing an arm across his hips. Newt wraps one arm around Hermann’s shoulders and uses his other hand to twist curls in Hermann’s short hair until they’re both asleep


	2. Chapter 2

“Babe, I’m driving you to Logan. No argument. I’m not putting you on a bus when it’s only a ten minute drive.” Hermann recognizes a battle not worth fighting and allows himself to be bundled into the car. He glowers when Newt offers him the cane as he climbs out, but accepts it when the other man fixes him with a pleading expression. They say goodbye with a long embrace.

Newt sings along with the radio (WMBR is having an New Wave marathon. Awesome!) on the way back to Revere. He stops to buy some disgustingly sweet pastries and the biggest macchiato available to drown his sorrows at being left a widower for a few days. It should be fun anyway, though. His new exploit is turning out to be a thing of beauty and he can’t wait to get it into the field. He just needs a target.

+++++

“We’re looking for a hacker who calls himself Hundun, Agent Gottlieb,” Lars Gottlieb says. It’s still odd for Hermann to hear his father address him like this but the man is a stickler for etiquette. Hermann’s ears prick at the name and the Director notes his change in expression. “The best of the best among the black hats. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.” Hermann nods. “He’s been playing merry hell with the R&D servers at pharmaceutical concerns for the last five years. The value of the information he’s stolen is in the billions of dollars. He’s also linked to a number of incursions into law enforcement systems, compromising hundreds of investigations. The CIA’s own agents only saved our most highly secured files by pulling the server from the network. Frankly, they’re afraid to even turn it back on because of what Hundun might have left in there for them. Attacking us in our home is the final straw. We want Hundun identified and arrested. Now.”

“If I may ask, sir, to what investigation did those files on the compromised CIA server relate?”

“The complete record of our investigation into the Kaiju Syndicate. If you need a reminder, the Kaiju are the biggest supplier of counterfeit medication and drugs of questionable legality on the Pacific coast and they have recently made inroads along the Atlantic seaboard. The information Hundun has been stealing has all turned up in the Kaiju’s “products”.”

Hermann goggles. “So it’s clear that Hundun works for the Kaiju Syndicate.”

“Abundantly so. He’s also a large part of their success. That is why we need to remove him from the game as soon as possible. We need you to find him for us.”

+++++

“Oh yeah. Who’s a good girl? What a good girl! Daddy is so proud of you!” Newt coos as he watches his new exploit slide through a top-of-the-line security protocol without triggering any warning flags. “This calls for celebratory coffee!” He’s deep into his second cup and putting some of his signature flourishes on the exploit’s code when The Phone rings. The Phone only rings when a very specific client wants a job done.

“Hannibal. What can I do for you today?” Newt dislikes and is more than a little afraid of Hannibal Chau, head of the Kaiju Syndicate, but the bastard has him by the short hairs. Besides, the jobs he brings are exciting.

“I need you to find someone. Name, address, phone number, place of employment. The usual crap.”

Newt’s immediately suspicious. “No way you’d call me for a private eye gig. I’m way too pricey for that. What’s the catch?”

“Oh no. You’re doing this one _gratis_ , little man. You owe me for that fuckup with Langley.”

“That wasn’t my fault! How was I supposed to know they’d do something as nuts as crashing their own server?”

“You didn’t finish the job I paid you for. So you. Owe. Me.”

“Fine. Who do I need to find?” Newt knows it’s pointless to argue with Hannibal.

“Calls himself Otachi. The little shit keeps messing up our deals. We need to put an end to him.”

“No way, dude! That guy is super scary. If he even smells you, you’re toast. And by “toast” I mean “in prison”. I’m not going anywhere near that one. Uh uh. No way. Call one of your other pet hackers.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Hunny. My sources say Langley is sending Otachi after your sorry ass.”

“Oh shit.”

“”Oh shit” don’t cover this. Now, you can do what I say and I’ll protect you from the Feds or you can take your chances with both the Feds and the Kaiju hunting you down. I’d hate to see that skinny-ass husband of yours caught in the crossfire.”

Newt’s heart drops into his shoes and his mouth goes dry at the threat to Hermann. It’s worth the risk to keep Hermann safe. “Alright, Hannibal. I’ll find Otachi for you.”

+++++

“What information do you have on Hundun, Agent?” Hermann asks the man assigned to bring him up to speed on his target.

“Here’s our complete file on the guy. All of the code we’ve managed to recover from his attacks, a timeline of the attacks, some analysis from our guys, and any metadata we’ve been able to pull together. There really isn’t much.” The agent shrugs. “The guy’s good.”

“I’ve started with less. Thank you. Do you have a workstation available where I can begin reviewing this data?”

“We’ve got an office set aside for you, Agent Gottlieb. Right this way.”

+++++

“Okay, Newt. You can do this. It’s just another tracing job. You’re great at this. Easy-peasey. No big deal. Just the world’s best white hat backed up by the entire fucking CIA. Noooo problem.”

+++++

Hermann is frustrated almost beyond words. Analyzing Hundun’s code is futile. It’s too mutable, varying too much from attack to attack to create a predictable pattern. Yes, there are a few junk passages that act as a signature of sorts, but there’s nothing else to grab hold of. The only certainty is that Hundun targets information of value or potential harm to the Kaiju. There’s only one way to catch someone like this. Hermann rubs his watering eyes. It’s going to take a lot of work.

When his phone rings as he’s packing up his notes for the trip back to the hotel, he knows who the caller is without looking. The tinny toy Godzilla roar tells him it’s Newt. “Hallo, _Liebling_.”

“Herm! How’s it going?”

“Desperately boring. And with you?”

“New job came in. Looks like it will be a real challenge. A geographical profiling tool.”

“You enjoy those, don’t you?”

“A lot. Not as much as modeling biological systems, but it’s still cool.”

Hermann pinches the bridge of his nose against the pain starting behind his eyes. He’s going to need _verdammte_ glasses before long. “ _Liebchen_ , I’m exhausted and I must get some rest. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

“Oh. Okay. Right. You sleep well, Herm. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Newt. Goodnight.”

Newt looks longingly at the phone. He knows Hermann hates the things, but short calls like that always bum Newt out. “No rest for the wicked, I guess.” Newt cracks his knuckles. “Okay, Otachi. Show me what you’ve got.”

Several hours later, he flops down on the couch, his back aching from being hunched over his laptop at the dining room table-cum-desk. “Fuuuuck. No mistakes. No trail. How am I supposed to find this guy? He’s the fucking ghost in the shell.” He throws a forearm across his eyes in frustration. “But he is predictable. All the stuff I can find is built with the same basic building blocks arranged in different patterns. That means if I can find a weakness in just one of the modules, I should be able to break any of his secure setups and get into his toolbox. Hopefully, his name is in the somewhere.” Newt picks up his laptop again and balances it on his chest.

Newt doesn’t sleep that night. It’s nearly impossible for him to drift off without Hermann beside him. And Hannibal’s threats give Newt’s chronic insomnia all the excuses it needs. The sun is nearly up again when Newt pauses in his line-by-line inspection of one of Otachi’s security projects. He squints and re-examines the line. His face breaks into an enormous grin.

“I’ve got you, motherfucker! I’ve got you! _YES!_ ” Newt jumps up and down on the couch cushions, clutching the laptop to his chest. “Otachi, your ass is mine!” He climbs down to sit on the couch like a normal person. “Now for a couple of hours of sleep and then I can get this party started for real.”


	3. Chapter 3

Hermann is back at his temporary workstation by 0700. By 0730 he has a plan of action to present to his father.

“So you want to set up a honeypot to lure in Hundun?” the Director asks.

“Yes, sir. We’ll need to make it look exactly like the server he tried to infiltrate for the Kaiju files. The important difference, however, will be that the content will be protected by _my_ security protocols and encryption. I will also monitor and respond to any incursions in realtime. Hundun will not be able to reach the files, but in trying he will allow me to learn enough to identify him.” The Director looks skeptical. Hermann holds eye contact with him. “This will work.”

Lars Gottlieb nods. “Make it happen, Agent. My people will get you whatever you need.”

“Actually, sir, I’d like assemble the trap in Boston. It will be … easier for me to work in familiar surroundings.” The Director studies his son. “That’s fine. Take the next flight home and get to work immediately. Notify us when the trap is in place.”

+++++

Feeling somewhat rested and fueled by a fresh infusion of caffeine, Newt’s fingers fly over the keyboard as he customizes his newest exploit to work against the flaw in Otachi’s code. He’s barely finished his yelp of triumph when his phone rings. “Herm!” he cries, overjoyed.

“Newton, training finished earlier than expected and I’ll be on the next flight to Boston. Shall I find my own transit to the office or will you insist on chauffeuring me?”

“What? The office? Right off the plane?” Newt sounds crushed.

“My chain of command insists I put in a full work day,” Hermann sighs. “I’m not happy about it either, _Liebling_.”

“Can we at least grab some lunch first?”

“I don’t think my supervisor is cruel enough to deny me food.” Newt can hear his husband smile. “I’ll see you at Logan in two hours.”

After an all too brief lunch, Newt deposits Hermann in front of the FBI’s Center Plaza office. Hermann’s gait looks strong today, but he still keeps the cane tucked under his arm.

Hermann spends the rest of the day building his honeypot for Hundun. Seven layers of security, each requiring a different finely-tuned attack. Two different encryption cyphers. All of it booby-trapped in ways that (hopefully) Hundun won’t notice. In the outermost layer, Hermann sets the Breach. It’s a tiny flaw in the code of an authentication module, designed so that only the very best hackers would recognize it as a weakness. Hermann is confident Hundun will spot the Breach and use it to gain access to the server. When he does, it will spring Hermann’s trap.

At 2336, it’s ready to go and Hermann makes the necessary connections to expose it to the ‘net. He closes his eyes and leans back in his chair. He just needs to wait for Hundun to come to him now.

+++++

By twenty ‘til midnight, Newt is wondering what is keeping Hermann at the office so late. His boss is a real douchebag for keeping Herm there so long after flying to Virginia and back. After the problems Hermann’s had the last couple of days, this new stress is going to make his symptoms so much worse. Newt’s about to call and check in (or maybe even call the asshole at home and chew him out) when The Phone trills.

Without preamble Hannibal growls “Langley’s server is back online. Get to work, genius.” The line goes dead.

Newt looks at The Phone in his hand. Then he takes a deep breath and opens his laptop.

+++++

Hermann must doze off because at 0027 the incursion alarm on his software startles him awake. Hundun has jumped into the Breach.

As he watches the server logs, he has to admit he’s impressed with Hundun’s skill. His moves are erratic, but he is methodically peeling back layer after layer of Hermann’s programs. No security officer other than Hermann would even know that Hundun was in the system. They are both that good. The hacker, though, seems absolutely oblivious to the way that each layer he counteracts teases a little more of his location out of the ether. For every bit for every bit of access Hundun gains, Hermann gains a little more information. The trap is working exactly as Hermann predicted.

Hermann keeps his vigil on the server throughout the night, fueled by several mugs of strong tea. He watches the hacker’s trail across the internet slowly take shape. Proxies, IP masks, three cyphers, and two separate dips through TOR networks (Perfect anonymity, my foot, Hermann scoffs). Hundun is good, but Hermann is better.

At 0618 the last bit of obfuscation is stripped from Hundun’s location by Hermann’s code. The final piece of the trap slams into place, sending an exploit designed to disable the hacker’s computer flying across the ‘net. Hermann yawns and checks the results.

No.

Hermann can’t be seeing this. He knows this IP address. 

It’s his home.

+++++

“C’mon c’mon c’mon. Just a little more. We’re almost through.” Newt is typing madly, tweaking the code on the fly and trying to carve the stealthiest path possible through the penultimate security layer. 

His screen freezes. 

Newt freezes.

The screen goes dark for a moment, then lights up in a shower of random numbers and characters. It looks sort of like The Matrix has taken over his laptop.

“Oh no. Oh nononononononono.” Newt buries his head in his hands. “I’m a dead man.”

Otachi has found him.


	4. Chapter 4

The cab ride from the office and the climb up the stairs seem to take an eternity. Hermann curses the cane for slowing him down. He fumbles his keys in the locks and finally opens the door to a stunned Newt.

“Herm? Where have you been? Why didn’t you call? You look awful.” Newt sounds terribly worried. Hermann feels a pang in his chest at what he’s about to say.

Hermann collapses into the nearest chair and fixes Newt with an even stare. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

“What’s me?” He glances down at the manga he’d picked up to hide his shaking hands.

“Hundun. You’re Hundun.” Hermann hasn’t blinked.

“Why would you think that?” Newt hopes he’s hiding his confusion well.

Hermann raises an eyebrow. “Not “who’s that?” Or “what are you talking about?” Would you like to rethink your phrasing, Newton?” 

Newt goes pale as a sheet. “Shit.” He swallows hard, mind whirling. “Oh. Oh. Fuck!” His eyes go as wide as saucers. “You’re Otachi!”

Hermann taps his nose with a small, sad smile. Newt drops the manga on the floor and is immediately across the room and braced over Hermann, his face inches from his husband’s. 

“You’ve been lying to me! You’re no stupid data analyst! You’re a white hat god! I can’t believe you’ve been lying to me for years!”

“You’re one to talk. I haven’t been lying about being a thief and helping a criminal enterprise destroy lives.” Hermann’s voice cuts like a knife. Newt winces.

All Newt’s anger falls away. “Yeah…. That’s fair. I deserve that. How long have you been…?” 

“Long before I met you. And you?”

“Since college.”

“As pleasant as this history lesson is, we have a more pressing concern. Namely, what are we going to do with this knowledge?

Newt perches on the edge of the coffee table. “Crap.” He scuffs his heels on the rug and whispers “My boss wants you dead” miserably.

“And mine wants you in prison and testifying against your employers.”

“Which will make me dead.”

“Indeed.”

Hermann looks at the ceiling. Newt studies the floor. After a few long moments, Hermann breaks the silence.

“I’m going to take a page from one of your disorganized, coffee-stained notebooks and recommend something monumentally stupid. I suggest we run.”

Newt doesn’t trust his ears. The offer is not Hermann-like at all. “You … you’d do that for me? _With_ me? You’d do that with me?”

“With your death a nearly certain alternative, do I really have a choice?”

**Author's Note:**

> My first prompt fill. Hope the anon likes it!
> 
> I did upgrade the guys’ jobs a little, because it didn’t feel right making them just generic IT people as smart as they are. They’ve still got fairly good covers for top flight hackers, though. Plus, making Newt a freelancer lets him show off his domestic side. :3
> 
> I feel kinda bad giving them both kaiju codenames, but the opportunity to have "Otachi" hunting Newt was just too sweet to pass up.
> 
> If there’s enough interest, I may do a second installment covering what happens next and introduce more familiar characters. I already have some ideas.
> 
> Research notes: All of the travel times, addresses, and location names are accurate (according to Google Maps, the Boston FBI homepage, the Massachusetts Bay Transit Authority (MBTA), and Expedia). I chose Revere as our heroes’ home turf because it’s one of the areas of greater Boston closest to downtown where someone could conceivably live somewhat comfortably on a civil servant’s salary. WMBR is MIT’s radio station. _Blue Gender_ is an anime series featuring humans in mecha defending Earth from giant invading monsters.
> 
> I work in IT, but hacking is not part of my skill set, so my descriptions are vague to cover my ignorance.
> 
> I once almost burned down a kitchen in an accident involving falafel, so I know it’s possible.
> 
> Recommended listening: Underworld, _Beaucoup Fish_ , Track 4, “Shudder / King of Snake”


End file.
